Return: Plain Sight
by Besieged Infection
Summary: After falling out of the truck, Roxas can feel consciousness slipping away from him. Suddenly he's watching a kaleidoscope - a cornucopia of memories and feelings. His life flashes by, almost overwhelming him. But it lingers on the important parts. Parts leading to the Mako wasteland; to the radio station. And on Axel. It lingers on Axel, too. (Part 2 of the Hybrid Verse.)


**Return of the Hybrid Verse. Yay! Hopefully I'll be better about finishing this than Return. So, without further ado, here's part 1.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, nor am I making money from the production and release of this story.**

**-P-S-**

I think I'm dying.

First I was falling. I tried to stop, but there wasn't anything to grab on to. There was screaming, and crying, and the smell of smoke and burning rubber. When my head met the pavement my life flashed before my eyes. Everything I did – everything I regret doing and not doing. It was all laid before me like a technicolor movie.

**-P-S-**

The first five years of my life flew by without much occurrence. I simply sat in the basement watching Mom experiment and perform surgery. Everyone always said Mom was a genius, and I guess you'd have to be to do some of the things she did. Like when she turned me human in one night.

Growing up, I never saw the sun. I knew about it from books and such but I'd never experienced it for myself. Mom always told me I had to be a good boy and stay downstairs. I had to be quiet as I received my shots. All of them. I hated the ones that glowed blue the most; the refined Mako. I'm a bit surprised; the nausea of the shot hits me hard, even though it's just a memory. I'd really hated those, but Mom said they were necessary. Now I know why, but it's still an unpleasant memory.

Once there was a girl Mom strapped to a table. This was the first one who ever protested to anything. She was screaming and crying and convulsing in an attempt to get out of the restraints. Her face was a mess of smeared makeup, tears, and snot. Short black hair plastered itself to her forehead and cheeks with sweat. Eventually she turned to me and whispered, which I almost didn't understand after all her screaming.

"Let me out," she insisted while my mother and her assistants were upstairs. "Let me out. Please, let me out."

I just sat there, not knowing what to do. No one had ever not wanted a procedure done. But here this girl was, begging me to set her free.

But then Mom came downstairs and the girl was screaming again. I sat there, forgotten, listening to her berate my mother with cuss words, spat insults, and the repeated phrase, "You're not taking Sora from me!"

To those who care, that girl's name was Xion.

In retrospect, even if I had let her go I never could have prevented what happened in the long run.

**-P-S-**

When I turned six Mom said I was allowed to go outside, but I had to lose my ears and tail first. She was always telling me that my ears – fluffy things that caught every sound and every detail of speech – and my tail – which was soft and fun to cuddle and kept me balanced – were the reasons I wasn't allowed to go outside. I didn't question her, even though half the people who came in to the basement had similar features. Some even had claws and feathers. That night she knocked me out and cut off my ears and tail. She messed with my head so they wouldn't come back, and the next morning she let me climb the stairs for the first time.

The sun was a lot brighter than I expected it to be.

**-P-S-**

Mom started giving me special shots after that. Green ones instead of blue. It was "unrefined" Mako. It gave me headaches and made my body hurt. More often than not I would crawl in to my new room after getting the shot and lay in bed for the rest of the day, not eating anything. "That's normal," Mom would tell me, brushing back my bangs from my forehead to plant a kiss between my eyes. "It'll stop hurting when you're done growing."

"Growing?" I asked. "Why do I need to grow?"

"Because we have plans for you," she told me, smiling. "You're not going to be restrained to the house any more. You'll go to school and make friends."

"What are those things?"

She just laughed.

I would soon understand what she meant when I suddenly grew six inches in a week, then in the next. Before I knew what was going on I was five feet, three inches tall and Mom was cutting my hair.

"You're going to school tomorrow. Have you been reading those books Mr. Corazza gave you?"

"Yes," I replied, ever the obedient child.

"Good. We can't have you making everyone suspicious on your first day." She stepped around me and began work on my bangs, occasionally stopping to blow strands of hair to the floor. "Your hair is such a lovely blond – nothing like your father's."

Mom never talked about Dad much. I think she just wanted to forget him. I asked once when I was three, but all I got out of her was that he was an experiment of hers.

"Dr. Crescent," someone called from the top stair of the basement, catching Mom's attention. "Preparations are complete."

"I'll be right there," she called back, carefully cutting the far side of my bangs. To me she mumbled, "There's a skateboard by the front door – you have until you get to school to learn how to ride it. Do you remember the map I showed you?"

"Yes," I replied evenly. "What's a skateboard?"

"It's a board with wheels on it. You stand on it, kick off with your foot, and it rolls." Taking a comb to my hair, she set the scissors down and brushed hair from the smock that covered my front before unclipping it. "Now I want you home after school. Remember not to approach anyone you know – and no one with features like you used to have. That can get you in a lot of trouble."

"But we have them here all the time," I argued. "What's so bad about talking to them at school?"

"It isn't done," she told me, setting down the brush and folding the smock. "Just promise me you won't."

"Okay," I promised, grabbing my bag off the floor and throwing it over my shoulder. The weight felt odd. It was light, but heavy. It didn't help that everything about me felt too long or too big. I felt awkward for the first time in my life; like my body wasn't really mine.

I strode over to the door, grabbed the skateboard, and left.

I would crash three times before my reflexes caught up with me.

**-P-S-**

By the time I got to school I had the odd scrape and bruise that hadn't healed yet. But no one around me seemed to care. Lucky for me, because I was in the middle of a culture shock.

There were teenagers everywhere. It was like they were spilling out of every crack and hole they could, flooding the front lawn and filing in to the school. The building itself was made of brick, and was possibly the largest thing I'd ever seen. The front doors were thrown wide open, all four of them, and at the entrance students subjected their backpacks to a search. Hoisting my messenger bag higher on my shoulder, I took a deep breath and approached. The compacted dirt beneath my shoes seemed to punch upwards with every step, making everything feel like it was roiling and waving. Nausea hit me hard. What if Mom accidentally gave me the wrong bag? What if there was a syringe of Mako in a side pocket? Would they get me on possession?

I didn't know much about the real world, but I knew a few things from the books Mom had given me. For one, having Mako in one's possession was a serious offense punishable by jail time and interrogations on par with that of a terrorist cell investigation. Second, Hybrids like myself had to register with the state, which I hadn't done. With any luck they wouldn't know, thanks to Mom removing my features, but if they did a blood test I was screwed. Third, people didn't like Hybrids.

Stepping confidently up to the front doors, my new skateboard tucked protectively under my arm, I desperately attempted to appear like everyone else; a teenager. Which I most definitely wasn't.

"Bag," one of the security guards demanded, holding his hand out lazily. I turned over my bag without complaint, and as he went through it I tried not to panic too much. It only took a few seconds. Then he gave it back to me and held his hand out for the next kid.

I nearly sighed with relief as I took the bag back, put it on, and made my way down the hallway. Around me people pushed and shoved in an attempt to get through. Lockers lined the walls, beaten and old and barely holding themselves together. I allowed myself to be pushed through the crowd further in to the building, until finally I found myself outside the office. Picking my way carefully through the crowd before I could push the door open and step in. Almost immediately the world went quiet. I hadn't even realized there was so much noise until it wasn't there any more.

"Can I help you?" a girl at the front desk asked. She had brown pigtails and an orange shirt with white flowers. There was nothing Hybrid about her. Just a regular human. Her name tag read, "Olette."

"I'm a new student," I told her, stepping up to the desk and trying to appear as human as I could. Unfortunately I had no idea how to do that.

She smiled, and suddenly I didn't feel so awkward. "Gotcha. Have your parents already registered you?"

"My mom did, yeah."

"Great. Last name?"

"Crescent."

She turns to a stack of papers to her right and began picking through them. "Crescent," she muttered to herself quietly. "Is that spelled with a C or an SC?"

"SC."

"Found it... Crescent. Roxas?"

"That's me," I nervously admit.

"Cool name. Anyway, here's your schedule – we have Art History together – and locker key," she informs me happily, handing me a sheet of paper and single key. Then she stood, "Now, I'm going to have to take your photo. It's for your ID card."

She waved me in to a back room, and there she took my photo and printed out an ID card on a sheet of plastic.

"You forgot to smile," she told me with a laugh. "I'm not allowed to do retakes, so you're going to have to deal with it until next year."

**-P-S-**

Olette had given me a single sheet of paper and a key with a number. On the front of the sheet was my schedule, which consisted of a schedule that changed daily, and on the back was a map to the school. I quickly memorized it and, finding that I had at least half an hour before my first class, quickly located my locker before I retreated to the football field. Once there I hid beneath the bleachers and proceeded to dry heave in to the grass. Mom told me something like that might happen. She called it "over-stimulation." I'd gone my entire life without so much as seeing a crowd, and suddenly I was expected to coexist with one. It was strange, though; I didn't feel over-stimulated.

But I guess that's just the sociopath-thing Mom told me about.

**-P-S-**

By the time the bell rung I managed to get my body in control enough to go back inside. My first class was Chemistry. But I didn't want to go. I didn't want to go anywhere. So I didn't. I hung around the bleachers for another ten minutes, waiting for the crowds outside the school to clear before going inside. But there was someone in the hall, anyway. A tall man with bright red hair and facial tattoos.

"Hey, kid," he called, waving a book at me. "Got a light?"

"A what?"

He sighed. "Never mind. Hey – aren't you supposed to be in class?"

I shrugged. "I am?"

The man's eyebrows rose quizzically. "You're kidding, right? Jesus – just get your ass to first period."

"Okay," I mused quietly, stepping past him. I wasn't too far from the room Chem was in. But all the way there it was like I could feel a weight on my back. Like the man's eyes were following me. Several times I turned around, but no one was there.

When I arrived the teacher – a woman just a bit taller than me with long blonde hair pulled into a bun – turned to me with a look that spoke of uncertainty. "I assume you're Mr. Crescent."

I nodded.

"Take a seat – and don't be late next time."

Her name was Ms. Quistis Trepe. I might as well tell you now, seeing as she's not going to come up all that often, if at all.

Scanning the room, I found a seat open by one of the rear windows. I'd be sitting beside a kid who was fast asleep on his desk, and behind someone who looked more interested in what was down Ms. Trepe's shirt than what was coming out of her mouth. The first ten minutes of class passed pretty quickly. It was surprised to discover that you actually learned things in school. It was nice. Not that anyone seemed to share my sentiments. There was note passing and chatting and a general lack of attention from everyone there.

It was after those first ten minutes that the man I met in the hallway walked in, handing off a stack of papers to Ms. Trepe. She smiled, but it looked a bit strained. "What? No cigarette break?" she whispered acidly.

I could barely hear her; I don't think anyone else could. The class was filled to the brim with human after human with not a single Hybrid in sight.

"Cut me some slack," the man replied just as quietly, running a lazy hand through messy red hair. "It was one time."

She shook her head in displeasure. He went off to the corner of the room, snatching a red pen from her desk as he went before sitting down to what looked like grade papers. It was one of the strangest interactions I'd ever seen between two adults. Usually they had themselves so... together. But this man was obviously an exception to the rule. Just knowing this made me feel a little less alone.

Later in class Ms. Trepe sent me down to the library to get the books I would need for the course. By the time I got back the bell rang, and I just barely had enough time to hand her back the pass and hurry to my next period.

**-P-S-**

I entered the cafeteria briefly for lunch, only to run out again and nearly retch myself into oblivion in the boys' bathroom. How could everyone stand it? There were so many _people_ there. No. I would pretend to be a human, sneak around, and break the law, but there was _no way_ I would take lunch in the middle of such a large crowd.

So me and my bagged lunch ran off to the music room and hid behind the piano. I'd never seen one before. Mom had mentioned them once or twice. Said they made 'music,' whatever that was.

By the time the bell rang I had messed around on the keys enough to know the basics of what 'music' was.

**-P-S-**

After school I hid beneath the bleachers like I had before class. The rush of bodies after the bell rang had set me off every time between classes, and eventually I'd stooped to taking the outdoor routes to classes, cutting through the courtyard set in the center of the school. But after school everyone had been heading the same direction I was, and I panicked. So I ran to the first place I could think of; the football field's bleachers. My arms were tangled in the hinges, and I bent over the ground to dry heave.

"Hey," someone called somewhere behind me. "This is our spot."

"Give him a break, Hayner. He doesn't look too good."

Then there was a hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay?"

I swallowed heavily before turning to face the person. It was Olette. "Hi," I said weakly.

"Roxas!" she gasped. "Oh my gosh – are you okay?"

"Who cares?" a guy with bleach blond hair complained behind her. "Just get him out of here."

"Be quiet!" Olette snapped over her shoulder before turning back to me. "Do you need to see the nurse?"

I just shrugged. "It'll pass."

She doesn't look convinced.

Drawing myself up to full height, I snatched my bag and skateboard from the ground and bid her goodbye with a two-finger salute. I'd seen one of Mom's friends do it once and I'd always wanted an excuse to try it.

The boy with bleach blond hair looked to be happy I was leaving, but the boy next to him – he was rather pudgy and had shoulder-length black hair – seemed to be worried. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

"First days always suck," I told him flatly. Mom said that a lot to her assistants. It seemed appropriate, but I was running out of what expressions I had. If I stuck around for much longer they'd know something was wrong with me. And while they might not know right off that I'm a Hybrid, I didn't know how bad a reaction my Sociopath-thing would warrant.

The blond one laughed. I figured he was the one they named earlier, Hayner. "Whatever. Get lost, loser."

"That's not very nice," Olette chastised, no doubt waving a finger at him. "Roxas, would you like to join us?"

"Wha- hey! This is _our_ spot!" Hayner protested.

Offering his hand, the pudgy boy fixed me with a big, warming smile. "I'm Pence. Nice to meet you! Roxas, right?"

I was officially there for too long. I shook his hand, gave him a small affirmative that he had my name right, then ducked around him in an attempt to leave. A hand on my arm stopped me. "I thought you didn't want me here," I told Hayner quietly, attempting to shake out of his grip.

"Yeah, well, Olette invited you."

I stayed.

They talked about things like homework and what they did over summer vacation. Every once in a while they would mention struggle tournaments – a game with boffer swords they would play in the park every day the weather was nice, provided there was some competition. Now that school was in session the 'competition' apparently had lacrosse practice and thus couldn't make it. As the afternoon wore on I became more and more aware of the dynamics in the group.

Hayner was never taken seriously, though everyone did consider his words. He was obviously the leader. Olette was quiet – the support. But everything she said was taken with the utmost importance. But it was Pence that I was most impressed with. He was smart, and while the others pretended to ignore what he was saying they took his words as something similar to gospel. From what I had seen of the school he should have been hanging out with a different crowd; the ones that pulled out their math textbooks in the hallway and compared notes. Olette should have been surrounded by the pretty girls who did their makeup with a mirror they installed in their locker. And Hayner? He probably would have been exactly where we were, but with a bunch of older kids smoking cigarettes and sneaking bottles of booze onto the school premises.

That was the first and last time I wondered why those three were friends.

I had to leave before too long. I _did_ promise Mom I would be home right after school. The others saw me off, oddly enough. They seemed to take a liking to me, despite how quiet I was. Even Hayner. And to tell the truth, hanging out with them was pretty fun. You know – aside from Hayner's anti-Hybrid rants. Those hurt. A lot.

Shortly after this I started skipping P.E. I showed up for class, waited for the teacher to take attendance, then slipped out of the room and around the back of the school. Only when I was facing the fence with my back flat against the scratchy side of the brick building did I let myself relax. Sneaking away for lunch wasn't enough any more – I needed an entire hour or I would start heaving. That's where I really met Axel.

Axel was the redheaded student teacher from Chemistry class. More often than not I would find him sneaking a cigarette behind the gym. Sometimes he would sneak a bit more. Occasionally I would catch him with a narc-fuzz. They're kind of like can sodas, but instead of soda there's an instant-steam sort of thing. You inhale the steam, and then you get high. Axel's flavor of choice was cinnamon-apple marijuana.

I don't know when it happened but somehow along the line, underneath all that second-hand smoke, Axel became the one person I had ever been attracted to. And while I would have a brief crush on Olette for a few weeks near the end of freshman year, as well as a thing for my History teacher, Fran, for the first month of Sophomore year, my attraction to Axel would last a lot longer than pretty much anything in my life.

**-P-S-**

Several months passed like this. An entire _year_ passed like this. I would go to school, hide in the music room during lunch, skip P.E. with Axel, and then hang out with Pence, Olette, and Hayner under the bleachers after school before heading home. The only thing that changed was how tall each of us were. It seemed my growth spurt wasn't over after I registered for school, though I had caught the end of it. By the end of June, which was when I transferred in, I had grown another five inches. I was a five foot, eight inch freshman. But while I started school looking like I was twelve – which was disorienting considering I was six in human years – I ended the year looking closer to sixteen. This shouldn't have been too odd, now that I think about it. Six in human years is eighteen in Hybrid years.

When I was seven – or, rather, at the beginning of my Sophomore school year – I found myself in all the same classes as Pence. We all took this as a surprise, seeing as Pence, Hayner, and Olette were all Seniors at this point. But I didn't feel smart.

Pence and I split off in to our own little thing for a while. Then Pence and Olette hooked up – no surprise there – and starting spending a lot of time with each other outside the bleachers. Hayner and I were left alone at the usual spot every day, it seemed like. He started sneaking his MP3 player in to school, introducing me to the music he listened to. And it was then, sharing ear buds under the bleachers with Hayner of all people, that I received my first kiss.

I'd never received the "first kiss" monologue from anyone. I wasn't under the impression that it was supposed to be special. In fact, I didn't even know what kissing was. Or even sex. I just knew that some people paired up while others didn't. That you were eventually supposed to pair up with someone, too. Someone you liked.

"Please say something," Hayner had whispered to me, barely audible over the music, voice cracking. It had been doing that a lot, lately. He was going through that final growth spurt, and was only an inch shorter than me at the time.

"What?" I asked, confused. I had no idea what was going on. All I knew was that when Hayner pressed his lips to mine it felt nice. Nice enough to do a repeat.

Nice enough to try with Axel.

But it occurred to me that Axel, for some reason or another that may or may not have anything to do with the way Hayner was acting, might not want to do something like that. Best to wait for him to get high first. He always seemed to be more susceptible to ideas then. Like bowling at three in the morning or skipping sixth period to get fish and chips down at Donald's Diner, the restaurant downtown where all the servers were Hybrids. You see, somewhere along the lines Axel stopped being a student teacher and became one of the few assistants mom had that managed to last a while. He knew about everything. He knew about me. About the plan. He even knew about the bomb.

Because of this, even if I knew what was going on, Hayner could never have competed. But I didn't know what was going on, and because of that I did the one thing that would hurt him more than turning him down. I kissed him back.

Looking back, it was the cruelest thing I've ever done.

He seemed happy enough, though, so I guess it wasn't too terrible. Actually, never mind. That just makes it worse.

I'd like to skip through this, but the memory is a vivid one, and it stands out above most of the others. All the adrenaline, you know? It wasn't much. It was just regular kissing. An elongated peck. But then his fingers tangled in my hair and he let out this sort of sigh. It was long and heartfelt. At the time I thought I was doing something right, so I just continued. I didn't tell him that there was someone else I liked. Someone who knew my situation and accepted it. Someone who didn't hate my very being without knowing it.

It occurred to me how angry Hayner would be if he ever found out I wasn't human, but I brushed the thought aside. He would figure it out someday. Probably. Maybe. Someday. _Yes_.

Let's be honest; I was lying to myself.

**-P-S-**

I met Demyx in the bathroom and handed off the backpack.

I don't know why, but he was covered in blood.

Suddenly I was glad they didn't tell me anything.

**-P-S-**

The next time I saw Axel I was so enthused by the idea of kissing him that I didn't wait until he was high. I approached him in our living room – because that's where we met these days, not behind the gym – and planted one on him. He didn't take to it kindly. First he pulled back and make some sort of squawking noise. This was before he went on a tirade about how, appearances be damned, I was a seven year old child who shouldn't have been so much as thinking about kissing, let alone partaking in one.

"But what about Hayner?" I asked. "He kissed me. He didn't seem to find anything wrong with it."

"Goddamn... Hayner? Jesus – don't go getting yourself mixed up with that kid, okay? He's bad news."

"He's my friend," I said simply.

"Well I don't give a crap," he hissed. "Just don't associate with him. You're just putting yourself at risk."

"But they assigned me to him."

"What?"

I shrugged. "I told Mom about Hayner. I'm on assignment now. I'm supposed to get close to his family or something."

Then Axel blew a gasket. I faded in and out of what he was saying, until finally he grabbed my wrist and, being careful to make sure no one saw us, dragged me to his car and drove off, gas mask firm over his face to ward away the Mako in the air. I didn't ask where we were going. I figured we'd eventually stop somewhere and I'd figure it out.

**-P-S-**

Axel was on the phone a lot at rest stops. He was arguing every time. I think it was with Mom.

**-P-S-**

We drove past a lot of cities to get to where we were going. Our destination was a small town with lots of signs and lamp posts. It was called "Traverse Town." It seemed oddly fitting.

Axel led the way to a small motel in what I assumed was a downtown area. I didn't have much to go on, though – it all looked like downtown. It was called the "Second District Motel." Personally, I think the name is pretty catchy.

Then it started raining.

Axel went out onto the second story balcony – above the Mako – to smoke a cigarette and yell on the phone a bit more. It wasn't until I hovered in the doorway that I realized just what he was fighting about. It was me.

"You shouldn't be signing him on to something like this. There's got to be someone else you can assign!" A pause. "He's, what, seven? He – I don't _care_ if he's twenty-one in Hybrid years. I'm human, you're human, he's half human, and he's seven years old! This is immoral!"

I stepped away from the door at that point. It never occurred to me that Axel might object to me having responsibilities because I was seven. And to tell the truth it kind of hurt. Not as much as it should have, what with the whole sociopath thing, but it still hurt. But instead of confronting Axel about it I took a seat on the bed and stared at the ceiling until he came back in, soaked from head to toe.

"Jesus, kid, why did you have to be so difficult?" was the only thing he said before retreating into the bathroom to take a shower.

That was when I reached the point of no return, convinced that I had to do something, anything, to get Axel to kiss me. I don't know why I was so fixated on it. It might have been the hormones, or maybe the Mako, but something was telling me that I had to get it out of my system, and fast. So I did the only thing that seemed like it would have a result in my favor: I walked down to the nearest convenience store, bought a case of cinnamon-apple marijuana steamers, and the moment he stepped out of the shower I tossed one at him before opening one for myself. I then proceeded to get Axel stoned off his ass.

It was the first time I'd gotten high, though, and I didn't really know what to expect. Everything turned super sensitive, until just running my toes through the carpet was too much. It was like being back in the center of that crowd, being pushed and pulled in so many directions with everyone around me breathing and talking and _being_. That's when I ran to the bathroom and started to heave. And for the first time in my life I threw up, good and proper. Not any of that dry-heaving nonsense. Axel was there, holding my hair as I retched and drawing circles on my back with his thumb while he hummed something under his breath.

"It's going to be fine," he whispered, pulling me into his arms when I was done, wiping at my mouth with a strip of toilet paper. "This happens sometimes with Hybrids."

"Stop doing that," I ground out. "Stop touching me."

His hands stilled at this. "Sorry. Didn't know it was bothering you."

I didn't answer. Didn't tell him that I didn't mind him touching me. Didn't tell him that I suddenly had a feeling deep in the pit of my stomach telling me that what I wanted was for us to be together like Pence and Olette were together. The way they would still be together if the Mako hadn't taken them. I didn't tell him that I realized that could never happen with us. He'd never see me as an adult. I was too young. I would always be too young. And by the time I wasn't too young any more... Well, we Hybrids only have a thirty year life expectancy. You can fill the blanks in for yourself.

**-P-S-**

**End Notes: There's part one of two, everyone! Don't kill me for taking so long. It only took... four years? Yeah, that sounds about right. Anywho, my soul runs on reviews. Feed me.**

**Fair warning: I have no idea when I'll be uploading the final half of this, so please be patient. But, as always, reviews motivate me to sit down and write. Then I can update faster. (And no, I am not abandoning The Mechanic.)**

**Sincerely,**

**Besieged Infection**


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